


all on your own?

by savagemockingbird



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Gen, Overworking, Platonic Cuddling, Team Bonding, at the end tho, double and red are just crashing at their house, omega and vintage are meant to be written as siblings, vintage is stressed, vintage loves his friends so much im telling you, vintage's secret inferiority complex shines through in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27149173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savagemockingbird/pseuds/savagemockingbird
Summary: He pushes himself away from the table, grabbing the sheet and crumpling it up. Vintage resists the urge to claw it apart, knowing he’d have to clean it up later. He doesn’t want Omega to give him that look-the one of disappointment, the one that secretly said you’re better than this.Vintage knows he is better. It frustrates him to no end that he constantly has to prove that, for some reason.Vintage's need to prove himself would eventually be his downfall. His friends step in to help.
Relationships: Double Egg & Vintage (Splatoon), Omega & Vintage (Splatoon), Red Sole & Vintage (Splatoon), X-Blood (Splatoon)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	all on your own?

**Author's Note:**

> i love the x-blood so much this was so self-indulgent but i hope u like it anyways if u read this !!

Vintage yawns, pushing up his tentacles and rubbing his eyes. His pencil grates against the paper and the sound makes him cringe. He briefly considers getting up and going to bed, but something blocks his mind and he stays there sitting at the table, formulas on a paper that are nothing but mush in his brain.

Finally, with a groan, he pushes his chair back and lays his hands flat against the table, crumpling the corners of his plans. Vintage stares down at it through hooded eyes and he clenches his fists, nails digging into the paper, tearing it slightly. Staring at his work just makes him more frustrated.

It isn’t enough. His work isn’t enough. He needs to get stronger. 

He pushes himself away from the table, grabbing the sheet and crumpling it up. Vintage resists the urge to claw it apart, knowing he’d have to clean it up later. He doesn’t want Omega to give him _that_ look-the one of disappointment, the one that secretly said _you’re better than this._

Vintage knows he is better. It frustrates him to no end that he constantly has to prove that, for some reason.

The creaking of stairs interrupts his thoughts and he quickly shoves the wad of paper into his jacket pocket, absentmindedly fiddling with its zipper. Double-Egg rubs his eyes as he stumbles into the kitchen, yawning and then blinking at the sight of Vintage.

“What the hell are you doing awake?”

Vintage shrugs. “Lost track of time.”

Double looks at the clock on the microwave. “It’s like, two in the fucking morning dude,” he says, yawning again. Vintage cringes when he doesn’t cover his mouth. “You really need to get to bed.”

“Not tired,” Vintage says dryly. “Still got stuff to do.” He rips out a page from the pad on the counter, grabs the mini-whiteboard and markers aligned beside it. He sits back down at the table, popping the cap open with his teeth, fangs digging into the plastic and making him cringe again. 

Double moves to stand beside him, hands meeting the top of the chair. He sighs noisily. “Seriously, Vin. Let’s go back up.”

“Leave,” Vintage says quietly. He’s scribbling down formulas he’s not even sure he understands. “I can do it all myself.”

“Vintage.” Double rubs at his tired eyes again. He reaches for the marker Vintage is using. “Leave it, we can do it to--”

“ _I said leave!”_ Vintage stands abruptly and the marker clatters noisily to the floor. Tired, red eyes peer beneath his tentacles, his fangs are bared and his breath rattles heavily in the air.

“Oi, what the fuck is your problem?” Double snarls, inching closer. “I’m just trynna fucking help you!”

“Well, you’re not,” Vintage snarls back. Double has an inch or two on him but that doesn’t make Vintage back down. “Piss off, would you?”

“You know some of us are trying to sleep, right?”

Red-Sole’s voice redirects their attention to the stairs. She’s yawning and looking irritated as ever, Omega silently at her side. Vintage’s body trembles slightly and he swallows.

No. He can’t show weakness. Not to his sister, or his teammates, or anyone at all. No one.

“Sorry,” he says, voice barely audible. He clears his throat and speaks louder. “Sorry for waking you up. Go back to sleep.”

“‘Mega!” Double exclaims and the inkling in question grimaces. “Tell Vin he needs to go the hell to bed!”

“Vintage, what are you doing up so late?” Omega’s voice is laced with sleepiness and Vintage grimaces.

“Planning,” he says. Red moves around to stand next to Double, leaning on him as he wraps an arm around her to keep her up.

“Vinny! You can’t be in tip-top shape if you’re going to do this!”

“I’m _fine,_ ” he insists, but when he steps towards the staircase his vision blurs momentarily and his legs can barely hold him up. He hears Red’s yelp and there are arms wrapped tightly around his torso, vision swimming as he leans onto Double’s chest.

“Told you,” the other inkling scoffs. Vintage can only groan; his head hurts like hell and all he wants to do is crumple up on the floor and hope it swallows him whole.

“Let’s get you to bed, Vinny.” Red’s voice has lost it’s pitch, reduced to nothing but a soft whisper that sounds like static to Vintage’s ears. She moves to hold his waist and Double’s grip loosens slightly so Vintage can toss his arm over his teammate’s shoulder. Omega follows them silently up the stairs.

Halfway up, Vintage breathes in and sits on one of the steps. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, clasping his hands tightly together and staring at the wood of the step. “I should be your leader. I’m no good like this.”

“Is that what this is about?” Omega asks, moving to sit next to him. “You don’t think you’re--”

“Stop,” Vintage interrupts. “Stop.”

Omega glances up to Double and Red, who look at each other before sitting on the step below the one the other two inklings are on. Red rests her head on Vintage’s knee and Double tosses his head back to look their leader in the eyes.

“You never fail us, Vinny!” Red exclaims. “You’re like, the best leader in the world!”

“You’re a hard-ass,” Double sighs. He smiles up at Vintage. “But you mean a lot to us. Can’t go around having our friend running himself ragged, can we?”

Friend. The word hits Vintage like a truck, makes tears threaten to spring into his eyes. He swallows hard and Omega laces her hand within his own.

“Vintage,” she says, so quiet it’s almost inaudible. “You’re safe with us.”

_Safe._ That’s all he wanted to be, really.

He’s led to bed and gasps when Red throws herself onto the bed next to him, Double and Omega shuffling around to pull the blankets over everyone.

“Goodnight!” Cuff exclaims, shifting to tug the four of them into a hug. Double and Omega are laughing quietly and soon enough they’re all asleep.

Vintage smiles, and although words aren’t spoken, his friends know what it means.

_Thank you._

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading !! im @tomurajoyfriend on twitter if you wanna swing by and say hi !!


End file.
